


Make Do

by TheIntelligentHufflepuff



Series: Post-Infinity War ruminations [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Presumed Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntelligentHufflepuff/pseuds/TheIntelligentHufflepuff
Summary: A reaction and a determination.POST INFINITY WAR- SPOILERS.





	Make Do

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't think any of the characters who dissolved will remain dead cos they didn't necessarily technically die, they just ceased to be on that plane and mode of reality- hence the presumed character death tag. (Loki, Heimdal, and Gamora, however...)  
> Anyway, this is the first in a series of drabbles/fics that I will be adding to as I process infinity war and attempt to deal with exam stress through writing. Hopefully even if this one isn't enjoyable, it will be cathartic :)

“At least this time it's not my fault.” Steve said. His voice was stripped like his suit and as exhausted as his soul. 

 

“Jesus.” Nat replied. She’d plunked down on the ground right next to Steve, and neither of them had moved since. Not even when two grim faced palace guards came to collect Vision’s drained metallic carcass, or when night fell and the cold crept in. Rhodey had done his best to rouse them, but with little success; there was only so much emotion you could give when you, too, had lost some of your best friends. 

 

“But if I'd…” 

 

Steve clenched his fists futilely, relishing the fissures of pain that sparked across them. A perfect companion to his overworn heart. 

 

“No.” Natasha said, with finality “We couldn't have done a thing. Not” she added with a sigh, head slumping onto Steve’s shoulder “this time.” 

 

Steve gazed out into the forest, coated in a darkness even his eyesight couldn't penetrate. Just slightly to his east was the spot where he knew his best friend’s ashes lay, scattered carelessly like confetti on the ground, drifting off lackadaisically in the pleasant nighttime breeze. 

 

“He was coming to check on me.” He murmured. Then he was crumbling under the weight of an emotion the depth of which he didn't think he was still capable of feeling, stunted sobs dragging their way out of his thirst swollen throat “He shouldn't have. Why did he...why did he go? Why did they all go, I…”  

 

“Just cry.” Natasha murmured “Just cry.”

 

“I'm sick of it, Nat.” Steve gasped, choking on the stench of death and rotting leaves “I'm sick of it. Every time, I'm left behind.  _ Every time. _ And I have...I have the  _ audacity  _ to think about  _ me _ . When I'm the one who…” 

 

He settled, sobs receding into ragged breaths, which finally distilled into the stone apathy he'd been consumed by since God knows when. Stone apathy, except his heart was molten lava “Neither of them asked for this.  _ I  _ asked this of them. And  _ they're  _ the ones who paid the price.” 

 

“Technically,” Natasha breathed- her eyes glowed with tears “T’Challa was the one who asked Bucky this time.” 

 

Steve shook his head, then set it against Nat’s. They didn't really  _ do  _ this kind of affection but...well, once you've fought a God with unlimited power alongside a talking tree there aren’t really any norms left. 

 

“But at the start? That was me. With both of them.” 

 

“You know,” Nat hummed “I've kinda guessed, from what you've said, but you never really told me that.” 

 

“What? How it all started?” 

 

Nat nodded in confirmation “With the Howling Commandos.” 

 

“Well. I asked. In a pub; they'd just been released from their final medical examinations- this was after we’d got back to England- and they were all pretty drunk. I’d pigeon-holed them when I broke into the facility- they were clearly the leaders, they weren't about to let me walk away with their people without knowing damn well who I was. And it just happened to be that their specialities were balanced…really,” Steve chuckled slightly “It was a match made in heaven.” 

 

“And Bucky was there too?”

 

“He was sitting apart. I was more nervous about asking him than them, to be honest. He knows- he- Well, let's just say there was no hiding what I was and wasn't capable of.” 

 

“What did he say?” 

 

“He refused.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“He said he wasn't following Captain America into...into the jaws of death. He was following me.” 

 

“Jesus.” Nat said for the second time that night. 

 

“Careful,” Steve said, wiping at his eyes with a shaking hand “You'll reach your limit.” 

 

Nat smiled “He- He was your guardian angel.” 

 

“Maybe.” Steve bit his hand, inhaling sharply through his nose “Guess I don't deserve one anymore. If I ever did.” 

 

“You did!” Nat protested “You do. It's just...sometimes life works like that.”

 

“Or doesn't.” Steve amended darkly “I've been thinking-”

 

He cut himself off, brain stuttering to a halt under the burden of too many personas, too many emotions, too many duties.

 

“Carry on.” Nat murmured “Please. Believe it or not, this is good for me as well.”

 

Heart constricting again, Steve looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. Her arm, despite the suit, was cold in contrast to Steve’s.

 

“Well...I've been thinking what I'd do to get him back. And I realised that was his game, right? Thanos. Divide and conquer. Except it's ‘rip their hearts out and then use the people who are begging to get them back.’”

 

Nat shrugged, gently jostling Steve “It’s likely. It could be something else. We’ll...we’ll think about that. In time.”

 

Steve grunted in assent. If he was being honest, he was yearning for a plan as much as he was dreading ever having to drag himself through this moment of pure loss to realise it. For a few seconds, they fell silent; their touching shoulders told more than words could.

 

Then Nat asked, somewhat tentatively “What would you do?”

 

“Everything.” Steve whispered “Everything I could. For both of them.”

 

“Me too.” Nat sighed “I can't help feeling that Wanda…”

 

“It's not your fault.” Steve assured her on instinct. Then he realised the immense irony of his statement and shook his head at the same time as Nat gave him an entirely unimpressed, and slightly hysterical, look.

 

“If we make it through the next stage of this thing, we should…”

 

“Survive.” Nat finished for him “We survive, if we can. Together if possible.”

 

“And then?”  Steve asked. He genuinely had no answer- the future had seemed nebulous and empty for months, and now the small glimmer of hope that it would at least have Bucky in it was gone.

 

“We make do.” she replied “We make do.” 


End file.
